


That is what she told him

by Hai1ne



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood and Violence, Headcanon, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Murder, Other, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hai1ne/pseuds/Hai1ne
Summary: Sister was always right.Sister deserved everything.She was everything.He loved her.Or did he? He wasn’t sure.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo & Shinguji Korekiyo's Sister
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	That is what she told him

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually a comic idea I had but due to my incapability of finishing bigger art projects I just wrote it down as a short story instead.  
> Anyways Korekiyo is my comfort character and I love him.  
> Hope you enjoy this weird thing I wrote. Haha  
> He might be a bit out of character.

The gurgling sounds of her last desperate attempts to breathe as she was choking on her own blood were cut short after the anthropologist quickly stabbed his ritual knife through her left eyeball into her brain. „I’m sorry dear,“ he whispered as he removed the knife and eyed the many cuts and stab wounds that covered her now lifeless body „it would have been faster and way less painful if you hadn’t struggled as much.“ he sighed, closed her undamaged eye and stood up. 

He stepped back which caused the puddle of blood under his feet to make a squish noise. 

„You’re going to make a great friend for sister“ he smiled under his mask as he left the bedroom and went into the small apartments bathroom to look at his mirror reflection. „Oh my“ his uniform was covered in blood splatters and his long black hair was soaked in the red liquid which resulted in it hanging down in gross looking strands „I didn’t mean to be so messy.“ he heard an annoyed sounding grunt inside his head as his eyes wandered next to his own reflection. His sister looked back at him eyeing his ruined uniform with a disapproving look. „I will get it clean i swear.“ he said slightly panicking for this was the uniform she made for him back when she was alive „I will just get some hydrogen peroxide on our way home!“ she gave him a doubtful look „ _Well how exactly are you planning to go home looking like_ this? You’ll be more than just suspicious .“ She asked with her low soothing voice. Well she was right ,he looked like an absolute mess. Everyone would be able to see what he did. Another sigh escaped him as he turned away from the mirror. He stripped naked and stepped into the small shower turning on the water. His head filled with thoughts about what he did as he waited for it to get warm.

The anthropologist was wondering when he got used to this.

The murder.

The brutality.

Perhaps he just went numb after killing so many people.

Ninety-five people to be exact. 

He liked that number. 

It meant he will only need five more. 

Then he will be free . 

Then sister will be satisfied.

He checked the temperature with his scarred hands and noticed he had some new scratched on his arms. 

Did their victim do this? Or was it sister? 

Did he do something wrong again? 

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, closed his yellowish green eyes and stepped under the water, he didn’t move and just enjoyed the warmth for a couple of minutes. 

Opening his eyes again he looked around and took whatever he could find to clean himself with. He slowly rubbed off all the blood splatters and took his sweet time to cleanse his hair. 

There was no need to rush. 

It felt good. It was peaceful. 

What he did was sinful but washing himself like this made him feel like he could erase his sins. His hands traced over the many scars he had on his pale body. He didn’t make them.

Or did he? At least he thought he didn’t. He wasn’t sure. He could never be sure.

After he finished he didn’t even bother to turn off the water or dry himself, he immediately went back to the bedroom. Avoiding mirrors. 

He didn’t want to see her right now.

Trying not to step on blood he went towards a huge wardrobe which he opened to look for fitting clothes. Of course there only were women’s clothing but he didn’t mind. He found an oversized turtleneck sweater and some sweatpants. He took them out and laid them on the bed behind him. Still wet and in the state of undress he sat down on the edge of the bed staring at the bloody corpse in front of him.

Maybe he wasn’t actually used to it. Did he regret it? No that wasn’t it. He wanted his sister to be happy. 

Or did he? Maybe he just wanted her to be gone. To finally leave him alone. But he didn’t want to admit that to himself. He couldn’t. She would be mad. He didn’t want her to be mad. 

Without intending to he driftet off to sleep.

**A dream**

_She loved him._

_That’s what she told him._

_Over and over and over and over..._

_And he loved her back._

_That’s what she told him._

_She told him it was more than simple love between siblings._

_He wasn’t sure. But he believed her._

_Sister was always right._

_She would never lie to him._

_She taught him the beauty of humanity._

_He was always happy with her._

_Or was he? He wasn’t sure._

_„I love you.“_

_Is what she always said. Expecting him to say it back._

_She never had friends. Or a lover._

_And he did not have any either._

_She told him to stay with her. Always._

_Sister wanted him to be both._

_She touched him._

_Told him that’s what lovers do._

_He didn’t like it. But he let her if it made her happy._

_He never complained._

_Or did he? He wasn’t sure._

_Everyone called them freaks._

_She told him it didn’t matter._

_She was so alone. So was he._

_They had each other._

_Sister was always sickly._

_Always one foot in her grave._

_She died. Leaving him behind._

_Alone again._

_He didn’t know what to do._

_He missed her._

_Or did he? He wasn’t sure._

_He tried to build a life by himself._

_He loved humanity._

_So he used the knowledge his sister gave him to become an anthropologist._

_He did well._

_He made friends._

_And then she returned._

_Behind him in the mirror._

_Her smile blood red as her cold yellow eyes stared back at him._

_He was happy._

_Or was he? He wasn’t sure._

_She told him she was disappointed._

_How did he deserve friendship if she didn’t? She asked him._

_She got angry._

_Made him hurt himself,_

_“Cut cut deep and deeper”_

_is what she told him as he cut himself,_

_it’s what she told him as she made him kill his friends._

_She wanted them for herself._

_He felt nothing._

_If sister said he didn’t deserve friends then she was right._

_Sister was always right._

_Sister deserved everything._

_She was everything._

_He loved her._

_Or did he? He wasn’t sure._

_Sister said she wanted one hundred._

_He would seek good people out._

_He would draw them in and make them trust him._

_So he could tribute them to her._

_So they could be her friends._

_He loved all humans._

_All aspects to them._

_The ugly and horrible as well as the sweet and beautiful._

_He didn’t want to end them._

_He didn’t want to slit another throat to decorate the carpet with reddish stains._

_But sister said he should._

_Sister said he will._

_And if that’s what she said then so be it._

_ Because sisters word  is the  _ _law_.

**...What was sisters name again? **

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a few years since the last time I wrote anything serious.;;;;  
> And for some reason every time I do it turns into some kinda poetry.  
> I honestly don’t know what my writing style is. It’s almost as inconsistent as my artstyle.  
> Hope it wasn’t too bad :,)  
> Comments/opinions would be appreciated.


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